


Pumpkin Picking

by JBMcDragon



Category: Leverage
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBMcDragon/pseuds/JBMcDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Man, it's a thousand words. How much can I summarize? Right. Uh. What kind of pumpkins would a Parker pick if a Parker could pick pumpkins?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pumpkin Picking

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I wrote it in like, 30 minutes. Also, I don't own, nor am I making money off of, these characters.

Parker dropped the pumpkin and bounded off to the next one. Only Eliot's quick reflexes kept it from plummeting to its death, little seeds and strings of pumpkin-brains all over the ground.

"Whose brilliant idea was this, anyway?" he growled, placing it carefully with the others.

Hardison rubbed a hand over his shorn hair, gaze sliding pointedly across the pumpkin patch to Nate and Sophie, walking arm in arm.

"Right," Eliot muttered. "I'm never getting that attached." It just seemed like a bad idea for a man in his line of work, on so many levels.

"I like this one!" Parker squatted to wrap her arms around a man-sized pumpkin. "It reminds me of Sophie. Alec, can we get this one?"  


Hardison hesitated. Sophie spoke, her back stiffening. "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe a different one, baby," Hardison said hopefully.

"Well, we have to find one that looks _just right_ if we're going to carve it!" She started to leave, whipped back around, and pinned Hardison with a narrow-eyed look. "We are going to carve it, right?"

He nodded swiftly.

Eliot winced. "Because giving her sharp knives sounds like a brilliant idea."

Hardison leaned close, his voice low, and murmured, "I bought a kiddie set."

That was just too much. Eliot blinked twice, realized Parker would LOVE the orange-handled dull knives, and began to shake his head. "I love my freedom."

"I love my sex," Hardison said, trying for smug but coming up slightly worried as he tracked Parker.

"I have that, too," Eliot pointed out.

Parker stopped at a pumpkin, sat on it thoughtfully, rolled it to one side and wrinkled her nose. She let it fall to its base and took off again, bounding over a hay bale and nearly into a child.

The child's mother grabbed him back, glaring at Parker. Parker snatched up the pumpkin the little boy had been looking at and examined it in between giving him the evil eye.

"Baby," Hardison said, sounding a little exasperated. He didn't say anything else, though, and Parker was already off, zipping through the patch. Children turned and watched her go, alarmed.

"I have to get the right one!" Parker sing-songed over one shoulder.

"What did she mean by that?" Sophie muttered, still on about the pumpkin comment. "I might have picked up a few pounds when I was on break, but I'm sure I've lost them now--"

"You're beautiful as you are," Nate soothed.

Sophie pulled away from him, glaring. "And just what are you saying? 'As I am'?"

With one woman vaulting pumpkins and scaring off children, and the other annoyed behind them, Eliot leaned toward Hardison. "Could be worse." He glanced at Nate and Sophie. "Could be that." He thought about it, then added, "I am _so_ glad I'm unattached."

Hardison nodded, big-eyed as he watched his girlfriend plaster herself across another pumpkin. "Hey, Mama? How about we find a reasonable sized one?"

She was on her belly, hanging upside down off a car-sized squash bearing a blue ribbon. Her limbs sprawled out as if she were a limpet, fingers tense as she held herself in place. Her face pressed into the rind. "This one." Her words were muffled. "I want this one."

Eliot snickered. Hardison looked even more alarmed. "Baby, I don't think we can fit that one in the van. How would we even lift it in? Or out?"

Parker made chewing noises.

"No!" Hardison dashed toward her. "Do not eat the first place pumpkin!"

"Hey," the patch manager said, huffing toward them. "Get her off!"

"Mama, _please_ come down."

Parker shook her head. Her pontytail nearly brushed the ground. "This one is perfect. It's exactly round for carving, and it has a scar across it's face. It'll scare everyone."

"The point ain't really to scare _anyone_ ," Hardison said, a hand between her shoulders. His other hand waved at the patch manager behind his back, a silent but urgent _leave now_.

Eliot stepped up, putting a controlling arm around the manager's shoulders, and bullied him away. "She only gets to come out of the hospital once a month. Give us a second, we'll have her under control."

Hardison was looking at him like he'd lost his mind, but Parker hadn't heard or didn't care what Eliot had said. "This one is perfect," she repeated. "They have to be just right, Alec."

When he was sure the manager was leaving (albeit with great irritation), Eliot sauntered back over, smirking. "Tell me again about how awesome regular sex is?" he asked, grinning.

Hardison flashed Eliot a black look. "Baby," he crooned, "Eliot told me a secret. I'll tell you."

Tension snaked through Eliot.

Parker arched her back until her face -- red from the blood draining down -- was angled toward them. "What?"

Hardison returned Eliot's smirk, full force. "He secretly promised me he'd make you pumpkin pie. From scratch. _Twelve_ of them. We just gotta get some smaller pumpkins so they taste, uh, young."

"I did not!" Eliot said sharply, imagining having to gut all those pumpkins. "Damn it, Hardison!"

"Told you it's a secret," Hardison said smugly. "He'll deny it."

Parker flipped down off the giant pumpkin. "I like pumpkin pie. Should we leave them at his house, or at the pub?" She started off, plucking up a tiny little pumpkin and eying it critically.

"Neither!" Eliot insisted, striding after her. He snatched the pumpkin and put it back down. "Parker, I never said I'd do that."

She grinned, hugged him -- somehow her hugs always included elbows -- and bounced away. "Don't worry! I won't tell your secret! We should leave them at his house so no one else sees!" She raced among the hay bales, filling her arms with pumpkins.

"I didn't--"

"How's that unattached feeling now, huh?" Hardison grinned.

"I hate you," Eliot growled.

Sophie and Nate's voices drifted toward them: "--all I have to say is that if you are hoping for Cinderella, you'd better start behaving more like a prince."

"I said I'm sorry!"

"It's all good!" Hardison called back to them. "Eliot volunteered to make pumpkin pie from scratch!"

That was it. Eliot lunged at him. As they went down, Parker's voice followed. "Maybe we should get Eliot a date. Maybe then he'd be less grumpy. Ooh, look! This one's small enough to palm!"

 

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End file.
